


A Chance to Feel Hope

by cappiki



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-11 14:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17448863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cappiki/pseuds/cappiki
Summary: What is the purpose of jumping to a new galaxy, if not to wake up in the morning and feel hope rather than arthritis?Sara Ryder has pined for the good doctor for years and she's quite sure it's a one-sided attraction. Others, like Scott, aren't so convinced.These chapters follow Sara's perspective as she confronts a new galaxy, a new role, new challenges, and longstanding feelings.The clearly nsfw (smut) stuff has been mostly quarantined to chapter 6. For now.Until then, it is peppered with soft stuff but the burn remains slow.Slow, yes, but hopefully not unentertaining?





	1. A Big Party

_Damn, I’m going to miss this place._

Sara Ryder leaned over the balcony railing, idly swirling the drink in her hand.

The Citadel Presidium lit up gorgeously during the night cycle, and Tevura Hall had one of the best views. This was one of the last times she’d have the opportunity to enjoy those city lights.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to the rabble of the ballroom interior. Just in time to glimpse a salarian dignitary and Consort representative getting acquainted a little too inconspicuously. And indecently.

 

_A last hurrah? Charming._

Sara scrunched her face.

_Actually, you know what? Maybe I’ve had enough of this place for tonight._

 

Sara was never the biggest fan of big parties, but the Ryder clan was expected to show face at this Initiative gala. It was, after all, something of a final farewell. Even the charismatic Initiative icon Jien Garson made her appearance. Her dress sparkled in a dazzling array of colors. It was surprisingly elegant, rather than tacky.

Quickly shifting away from the asari and salarian, Sara’s eyes caught a petite orange-haired woman stumbling behind Garson, a glass of champagne in one hand.

_By the looks of it, she’s already had a few too many._

 

The woman’s free hand grasped loosely at Garson’s hem.

 

A slurred, but very audible request rolled off drunken lips.

Sara sputtered into her drink mid-sip, unsure if she misheard.

_Did… Did she just ask to look under Jien Garson’s dress?_

A few incredulous stares and a turian rushing to pull the woman away confirmed that Sara had either heard correctly, or it was something equally uncomfortable.

 

Sara chuckled softly, feeling her mood brighten. She’d been a bit sullen that evening.

Unlike her father, her heart broke a little when she thought of the friends and memories she was leaving behind. Even the once-small things, like her favorite ice cream parlor in the Presidium Commons, had taken on a new weight. The smallest ache of resentment throbbed at the back of her mind.

 

“Sara.” A stern voice wrenched her away from her thoughts, as if on cue.

Others may have heard just her name, but she read his reprimand. The remainder of Alec’s intended words played out in her head like a holo message.  _Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Sara. It helps no one._

Sara quickly turned on her heel to meet her father’s inspection.

“Dad.”

_Thank god Scott’s the one who inherited **that** face. _

At least Scott didn’t sport the persistent scowl.

 

Satisfied that his daughter understood the words unspoken, Alec gave a quick nod.

Sara acknowledged it with her own but didn’t focus on her father’s frigid expression for long. She _couldn’t_.

Her attention was quickly drawn to the man next to him. 

Her eyes could never help but linger.

 

_Uh oh._

_Maybe I shouldn’t have asked for that ‘mystery drink.’ Or the other…three?_

 

Even so, a split second was all she needed.

Silver hair, neatly styled. Soft green eyes. A grey 5 o’clock shadow emphasized by a healthy, tan complexion.

Crisp navy-blue suit, unfastened, exposing the lighter dress shirt underneath.

The shirt was just thin and snug enough to, at the right angles, tease loose outlines of a tastefully fit body.

 

“Good to see you, Sara.” It was a warm and smoky voice that flowed like whiskey.

Dr. Carlyle extended his hand and pulled her into the briefest embrace, quickly placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

“You too, Harry.” Sara mirrored his gesture, dedicating conscious effort to a casual appearance.

_Hah. Nailed it. To-tally normal. Definitely._

_Yep._

It was a simple salutation, common to the fancy parties all the high-and-mighty liked to attend.

His lips had barely grazed her skin. Just the swiftest touch of his cheek and the corner of his mouth. She’d already dished out a few such greetings that evening. Even Alec Ryder went through the motions with some of the other guests.

 

_This is fine._

 

But still, having _Harry Carlyle_ that close… The warmth of his skin and light brush of his stubble. The clean, woody fragrance with floral and citrus notes.

 

_Shit._

 

These sensations permeated her thoughts on sleepless nights.

Sara’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe four.

 

“Your dad tells me you’ve been a little restless these past few weeks? Not having second thoughts about jumping millions of light years to an alien galaxy, are you?” Harry’s tone was light, but genuine.

_Must be a doctor thing. Or a Harry thing._

 

“She’s got two weeks to get over it.”

_Aaand then there’s you, Alec Ryder. Never had much of a soft touch_ , _you cranky bastard._

Sara very nearly replied with a cutting retort, but another voice cut in. Probably for the best.

“ _Alec.”_ Jien Garson’s hand planted firmly on Alec Ryder’s shoulder.

She looked different from just a few minutes earlier, less like the sparkling icon of Initiative ads. Somber. “Can we talk?” _Was that urgency in her voice?_ “Privately?”

A moment. Sara thought she saw a shadow briefly flicker across her father’s face. He nodded quickly, then turned back to Sara and Harry. “Excuse me.” And then he was gone.

 

Sara released a heavy sigh, visibly relieved by his absence. “Alec Ryder. Paragon of charm and cheer. You watch, Harry. I’ll have that engraved on those Pathfinder statues I know they’re already planning.”

A low chuckle rumbled in the doctor’s chest as he leaned against the railing beside Sara. “I just hope they get that trademark scowl of his right. Wouldn’t quite have the same effect, otherwise.”

He took a second to reconsider. “Although, an immortalized image of a cheerful Alec might be equally amusing. Can you imagine a statue of him with a huge toothy smile?”

“Please, Harry. I have enough nightmares as it is.”

 

 

They turned to face the cityscape beyond the balcony. For a second, Sara could almost forget the bustle of the ballroom.

A comfortable peace quietly enveloped them.

 

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” There was no humor or sarcasm in his low, rich voice.

It was a simple but genuine observation, colored by the stark realization that these memories would soon be all they had of it.

_Really, doc? Such a cliché line_.

Nonetheless, Sara sympathized with the note of melancholy.

 

It felt appropriate to let the silence linger. If only for a moment longer.

 

She snuck a sideways glance at the doctor, as she always did when no one was looking.

“I hope you’re not waiting for me to tell you that _you’re_ the view, Harry. That would be way too cheesy.”

_But I totally would._

_Because you are._

_Ugh. Sara, you damn cheeseball._

 

He didn’t turn to face Sara, but his eyes darted down to her, one silver eyebrow raised. The corner of his lip turned up in a smirk.

“Saw right through that one, did you?” His characteristic sarcasm had returned. “Must be getting rusty.”

_No, seriously. You might be joking, but I absolutely, positively would._

_…I wish I could._

 

 

 

They stood there for a while, making small talk and swapping nuggets of witty banter.

It was easy to talk to Harry. That was one of the first things Sara noticed when she and her brother were introduced to him two years ago. Alec had decided early that Dr. Carlyle would work closely with the Pathfinder team when the time came. She never asked, but suspected they had some Alliance history together.

 

“Ah, well. I think it’s time for me to make my escape.” Harry straightened his back with exaggerated effort. “When you’re my age, your appreciation for these parties wears off. Or maybe it’s just this old man. I was never the biggest fan of these things.”

 

Sara struggled to keep her face from betraying her disappointment at his departure.

“You’re going home? Can’t you take me with you?”

 

_Oh. Fuck._

She couldn’t believe that just slipped out.

_Does he think I’m asking him to…?_

_Ugh. Probably._

 

Her thoughts were racing. She didn’t really mean it like _that_. _Right? Maybe?_ Although, such an interpretation _technically_ wouldn’t be inaccurate. She spent more nights than she’d care to admit weaving steamy fantasies in her head. But she knew better than to act on it.

Or so she had believed.

 

_Shitting pyjaks. This is why I stick to that two-drink rule._

She’d had four, against her better judgment.

It took every fiber of her being to resist wringing her hands or covering her mouth in embarrassment.

 

He faced her now. A single silver eyebrow arched in surprise.

Sara’s panic dialed up another two notches.

 

“Literally anywhere that’s not here is fine, really. If I’m honest, Scott and I may have, um, hidden one of the Initiative revenue officer’s clothes when they, uh, disappeared for an, um, interspecies liaison. They’ve been stuck in a storage closet for almost an hour. We locked the door.”

_Well, it was really just Scott, but if he gets caught… We’re definitely both gonna get in trouble anyway. We always do._

“…And I don’t want to be around when the hammer comes down?”

_Why did that sound like a question?_

A smile cracked across the doctor’s face. Sara couldn’t tell if it was a knowing smile or if he was amused by their antics.

Frankly, she thought the closet thing was pretty funny. That revenue officer was a little shit.

“And you want me to be an accessory to this crime? I don’t think so.” Harry laughed and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “See you soon, Sara. Don’t be a stranger.”

 

“See you, Harry.” She couldn’t manage much more than that.

 

After she was sure he’d put enough distance between them, Sara slumped into a nearby chair and dragged her hand down her face. She hadn’t noticed how hot it was.

 

_Ughhhhh._

 

She prayed she wasn’t blushing so intensely when talking to the good doctor _._

 

_It’s fine. No one noticed_. _And, even if they did, they don’t care. Everyone here is wrapped up in their own ego and problems._

 

_Breathe._

 

The blood began to leave her flushed cheeks.

 

Then Sara’s gaze passed over a neighboring table.

 

_Oh no._

Scott was there. His eyes had followed Harry out the door.

 

_Shit._

_Seriously?  There? RIGHT there? Was I really THAT distracted?_

The heat crept back. She knew the answer to that.

 

He blinked.

Did he hear her accidentally proposition the doctor? Then awkwardly try to cover it up?

 

She frantically scanned his expression for suspicion but found none.

Could he be hiding it? Was he stunned? Processing?

 

_God, he’s gonna have a fucking field day with this._

She pretended to look at someone else, watching his expression at the corner of her vision.

He turned back to her, innocently vacant.

 

A blink.

 

_…_

_Or…_

_…_

_…No fucking field day?_

_Huh. Good._

_He was always the dumb one._

Relieved, Sara glanced down at her omni-tool, wishing the night would end.

She brought her eyes back up.

They met Scott’s.

 

_Shit._

_There it is._

His mouth hung slightly open. It began to curve up as he struggled to contain a gleeful grin.

Sara tightened her fingers around the unfinished cocktail she’d been holding since Harry came by.

_Oh, Maker. If you’re there, kill me now._

She downed drink #5 as quickly as she could, bracing herself for the inevitable.

 

By the time her empty glass hit the table, Scott had scrambled out of his chair and pressed up to her side.

“Sara Ryder! You’re pining for Doctor Harry Carlyle!” He wiggled next to her, radiating giddy schoolgirl energy.

“Great, Scott. Thanks.” Sara mumbled, dropping her forehead to rest on the tabletop. “Why don’t you say it louder? I don’t think the whole party heard.”

_I swear I will strangle you in front of all these people if you do say that any louder._

 

“Ha! I always thought you maybe had a thing for him! I mean, okay… Maybe not, and it took a few moments to click, but—Oh man, I can’t wait to tell Lexi!” Scotts voice bounced with excitement. 

An elegant asari who fussed like a mother hen, Lexi’s few meetings with the Ryder twins usually ended with her clucking at them about their health and Ryder Recklessness. Something about Lexi’s way was indeed comforting, and they had easily warmed up to her.

They both also knew she was a dear old friend of Dr. Carlyle.

 

Sara looked up to shoot him a deathly glare.

_You are enjoying this **way** too much._

 

“Now, now,” Scott pat her shoulder with mock comfort, “I can hardly blame you. A lot of people love that silver fox look. And, all those sexy, _long_ years of experience--”

“Shut up, Scott!” Sara spat. “You slept with someone _Grandma’s_ age when we were in high school!”

“Come on, Sara, she was asari!” He waved his hand dismissively. “If she was younger it probably would’ve been weirder.” It didn’t bother him in the least. Her jabs rarely did, even when they should’ve been on mark. Sara was always a little envious of the way he could let anything roll off his shoulders so easily.

“And!” He continued, “She wasn’t Dad’s friend—” he let out an exaggerated gasp. “Dad! Ohoho, I wonder what Dad will think. Doesn’t matter. **_I_** think you should go for it.”

 

_And **I** don’t care what _you _think. He’s not interested._

 

Not wanting to indulge further investigation of the topic, Sara resorted to landing a punch on Scott’s shoulder. She didn’t need to see herself to know her cheeks were burning furiously. Was it rage? Embarrassment? Longing? All of the above?

 

_All of the above._

 

Scott only giggled in response. “Geez. You are such a stick in the butt.”

“Stick in the _mud._ Scott. Please stop making this weirder.”

“Yeah, right. That. What did I say?” Sara wasn’t sure he even heard her correction.

Scott leaned in closer, still wearing that stupid ear-to-ear grin. “Have you been smitten with him for _two whole years_?”

“No.” Sara’s answer was firm. Almost convincing. But not quite.

 

Triumphant, a smug Scott leaned back into his chair. “No worries, sis. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You literally just said you were going to tell Lexi.”

“Well,” Scott laughed, “I don’t currently have any plans. I _was_ just joking. No promises, though.”

 

Sara breathed an exhausted sigh. It was bad enough pining for a man who she knew wouldn’t feel the same way about her. Scott’s teasing did not help.

 

Somewhere in the background she could hear someone screaming about a locked storage closet.

 

“I hope Andromeda kicks your stupid pyjak butt, Scott.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're seeing this, thank you very much for the read. I appreciate that you considered clicking and even came this far.
> 
> I understand this is not a terribly common pairing and, while a longtime BW fan, I am late to this fanfic party. Years late, I guess. Has the punch run out? Are there other newbies around?? Does everyone already somehow know each other from tumblr???
> 
> Sorry.  
> If you choose to continue reading (I'm very sorry if it ended up being a waste of your time. I tried.) there may be formatting mishaps. They'll be sorted out over time. Maybe. At the moment, I'm floundering.


	2. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've finally arrived in Andromeda.  
> Unfortunately, it's got even more teeth than anyone had bargained for.
> 
> Chapters 1 and 2 serve as something of a prologue.

This wasn’t what she meant.

 

Scott was in a medically-induced coma.

No contact with the other arks or the Nexus.

Habitat 7 looked nothing like the golden world they were promised.

And they’d be landing on it.

 

Sara fastened the last of the Initiative armor clasps and hooked the M-3 Predator to her waist.

_Dammit, Scott. If this another elaborate prank, I’ll punch you **so** hard you’ll be in a real coma._

She wished this was a prank. It would have made her feel so much better.

At the very least, she took comfort in knowing that ultimately, he’d be alright.

 

Suited up, she followed Cora, Greer, Kirkland, and Fisher out to the shuttles waiting to deliver them to the Habitat 7 hellscape.

The rest of the Pathfinder team was already there.

The bright-eyed kid who cheerfully greeted her in cryo, Hayes, her dad, and… a familiar silver-haired gentleman who looked damn fine in a suit. Only this time, he was outfitted in combat armor and had an Avenger holstered on his back.

Somehow, this outfit was equally appealing.

 

“Doctor Carlyle?” Cora’s voice cut through Sara’s thoughts. “With everything going on, I’d think the ark needs you more than we do?”

 

In armor, Harry Carlyle looked grizzled, confident, strong.

 “Pathfinder wants a medic on hand,” he grunted as he hoisted supply crates into the shuttle. “And if that is home down there, I’m happy to knock on the door.”

 

Sara was certainly enjoying the show.

_Behave, Sara. Everyone’s watching. Especially the cranky bastard._

“Yeah, we just don’t know what’s on the other side of that door.”

 

A cocky grin spread across Harry’s face.

“If it’s got teeth, I brought the pliers. I’ll yank ‘em out myself.”

He sauntered away, returning his attention to the crates.

 

_Damn, that swagger is **ridiculously** sexy_.

 

 

 

 

Habitat 7 had far more teeth than any of them had bargained for.

 

* * *

 

 

“Guys, Ryder’s awake!”

The lights were blinding. Her focus floated in and out.

_Ryder? Who, me? Dad?_

Memories gradually seeped back into her consciousness.

_Dad._

_Habitat 7. The black cloud. Helmet shattered beyond repair. Can’t breathe._

_Dad._

 

_Burning, sharp pain. Can’t think. Lexi? Harry?_

_SAM?_

_…Dad?_

_…Oh, god. No._

_No way._

_He can’t be…_

_No, no, no._

_Cranky bastard’s made of titanium._

 

Hearing the news from the others’ lips didn’t make it feel any less surreal.

 

He was really gone. Just like mom.

Scott was in a coma.

 

Sara was, for all intents and purposes, the last Ryder around.

She **_is_** Ryder. No need to differentiate between her, Alec, Ellen, and Scott.

Just ‘Ryder’ would suffice.

 

“She _needs_ to _rest_!” Lexi snapped.

“She has two hours.” Cora’s remark was familiarly devoid of compassion. “We’ll need our _Pathfinder_ for this one.”

 

 

_Not Sara._

_‘Pathfinder.’_

_Pathfinder Ryder._

* * *

 

 Sara had been Pathfinder Ryder for two whole days.

_Chewed out by bureaucrats? Check._

_Allocated own ship and command? Check._

_Reviewed countless pages of likely-irrelevant protocol? Check._

_Tasked with making a stupidly hostile alien galaxy livable for hundreds of thousands of diverse colonists? Check._

 

_Two. Fucking. Days. TWO._

She hadn’t even had time to see the ship. _Her_ ship. It still made her nauseous to think that she’d possibly be Pathfinder Ryder for the _rest_ of her days.

Sara made a point to stop by the Hyperion cryo bay to tell her sleeping twin goodbye before setting course for Eos.

 

She ended up with one more goodbye than she had planned for.

 

 

“You—You’re staying on the Hyperion?” Sara’s voice cracked. She hoped it wasn’t too telling.

 

Part of her appreciated that he’d be watching over Scott. She couldn’t lose her brother, and she knew Harry would take care of him.

That same part was also relieved for other reasons. Maybe with distance and time, combined with the dangers and adventures of a new galaxy, the ache in her chest would dull.

 

That ache, however, tugged her heartstrings in another direction.

It was the part of her that was happy to just have him nearby, that admired his wit, caring, and gentleness more than she wished. The one that conjured indulgent fantasies before she fell asleep and sometimes, if she was lucky, even after.

Unfortunately for Sara, this piece of her seemed to be unreasonably louder.

 

“You know that moment when you realize you’re just getting too old?”

“Uh…”

_What happened to all that teeth-and-pliers bravado?_

 

“Right. Look who I’m talking to. Trust me, it happens.”

The doctor chuckled, but Sara took notice of the bleak heaviness behind his eyes.

_Who wouldn’t feel hopeless? Look at what we already went through, and we just got here._

 

“For me, that was Habitat 7. Watching you guys running around, dodging lightning and the kett… It’s a young man’s game. Pains me to admit it, but it’s passed me by.”

_Geez, Harry, you’re not a fucking fossil._

Harry shot her a smile. Sara could have sworn it was forced. “Just make sure to raise some hell, once in a while. I’m living vicariously through you.”

Ryder knew she should leave it at that. She really should.

But Sara wouldn’t. “Harry, I saw you in action down there. You more than held your own when we were ambushed by those aliens. We would have lost Hayes without you.”

 

_Stop. **Stop**. You shouldn’t push._

_You **know** you shouldn’t. _

“…You aren’t giving yourself enough credit.”

_You both just went through a hell of a mission._

_He’s still feeling the loss of the Pathfinder. His friend._

_You just lost Dad. Scott’s in a coma._

_The last two days here have also been shit._

_You’re not thinking straight._

“…Besides, we just secured a proper ship and crew. You probably wouldn’t be seeing much combat, if any.”

 

_Shut **up** , Sara._

“…You could stay onboard, in the med bay.”

 

_Jesus Christ. **Enough**._

 

 

The doctor had stopped swiping at his data pad. He didn’t look up at her, nor did he respond immediately.

The silence was deafening.

 

_You pushed too far, Sara._

 

His thoughtful expression had softened, but it was tired. So tired.

Slowly, maybe even deliberately, he raised his eyes to meet hers.

 

 

“Do you know why I came to Andromeda, Sara?”

 

_Did the cranky bastard twist your arm?_ No, this was the worst possible time to make that comment.

“No, Harry. Sorry I never asked…”

 

Wearily, he set his data pad down on a table.

“Well, you reach a point in life and you wonder, is that all there is? I’d accomplished everything in the Milky Way I could. I was locked into a future of diminishing returns.”

His focus was trained on his hands. He moved to massage one of his wrists, a gesture meant to emphasize his age.

“I wanted a chance to wake up in the morning and feel something other than arthritis…”

He paused briefly, seemingly to choose his next words.

 

 “I wanted to wake up and feel…"

His gaze darted back up to Sara. There was something familiar in those exhausted green eyes of his.

 

"…hope.”

 

 

 

_Hope?_

If that was what he was looking for, Andromeda hadn’t delivered.

Too bad. It was something she, too, dearly needed.

 

 

Unknown resolve began to crystalize deep in her chest.

 

 

_Hope_.

 

 

Sara Ryder firmly clasped the doctor’s forearms, gaze intensifying, reaching out to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

Maybe it was because all the overwhelming events of the past few days had finally caught up, but she could feel the back of her eyes beginning to burn.

But Ryders don’t cry.

_Hope._

_I know how hard it is, believe me, I really do. But no matter what happens…_

“Don’t lose sight of that, Harry.”

 

She held him like that, silently willing him to believe her conviction. To believe _her_.

 

His response was equally silent, as if he was searching her for something else, too.

 

 

Finally, she sighed, allowing her hands to slip away. She too, felt a weary ache in her bones.

Not wanting to press the issue further, she gestured to Scott, “I know he’s in good hands, but take care of yourself, too.”

_I need to know I can come back to you **both**._

After a quick nod, Ryder turned to make her way back to the tram.

 

“Sara.”

The doctor’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, almost melancholy. She almost didn’t hear him.

She didn’t turn around or respond. Her only acknowledgment was a quiet look over her shoulder.

 

“…Please. Don’t be a stranger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if you're here, thank you very much for the read and your willingness to stick around for more than one chapter :>
> 
> The ball finally starts rolling a bit faster in chapters 3 and 4.


	3. Whatever That Means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three months in, still Pathfinder Ryder. Still hopelessly pining for the doctor. Or maybe not so hopelessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, longest and arguably slowest chapter! Even after cutting things out, I'm still trying to get the hang of better pacing (as well as formatting). Thank you for your time and patience :>

Pathfinder Ryder scrubbed the radiation from Eos’s atmosphere. She violently wrested Voeld from the Cardinal’s grasp. She forged working diplomatic relations with the angara. She carved her way through hordes of kett to secure Ark Leusinia.

Along the way, she had been shot, stabbed, and singed by more weapons than she knew existed. She even considered starting a new encyclopedia cataloguing all the new and amazing ways to get your ass kicked in Heleus. In the list, she’d also include Suvi’s penchant for licking rocks. Among other things.

 

_You would think that after all that, I wouldn’t feel burned by a few silly words._

Ryder read the bracketed section over again.

____________

_…you display a tendency towards analytical thinking and intellectual curiosity. When interacting with others, even difficult personalities, you consider the more grounded and non-emotional response._

_However, I would say that this is at odds with your tendency to act impulsively in many situations…_

_[Perhaps I should note that you are more impulsive in the field that you are with your affection. Whatever that means—we can keep between us]_

_\---------_

**_Whatever that means._ **

_Ugh. What a loaded phrase._

Ryder was sure Lexi had a list of unwritten insights and speculations packed into those three words. She decidedly hated Lexi’s psychoanalyses, knowing precisely why they stung. They were on-point and poked her where it hurt.

Ryder Recklessness was a thing. In the field, it had always worked well for the twins. They were adaptive and responded quickly.

They both also navigated personal relationships with relative ease. They didn’t lose their cool. They knew how to keep the upper-hand, even if their methods differed.

For Sara, there was one exception, of course.

 

A small ping on her omni-tool signaled unread messages. Ryder glanced down.

 

 

_Of. Fucking. Course._

 

Even in Andromeda, the galactic playwrights had an ironic sense of humor.

 _________________

**_To: Ryder_ **

**_From: Harry Carlyle_ **

 

_I just want to thank you for your help with Ruth and Charlie Bekker. Not just because you saved us all from a catastrophic viral outbreak, although that’s all well and good. I also wish to send my personal thanks._

_This is something that shouldn’t have gotten by me. But, you did it. You found Ruth Bekker, **saved** her, **and** brought her back. I am told that things could have gone down a very different path._

_We need more people like you._

_I’m not talking about harnessing the power of ancient technology to make this cluster livable, charging across pirate-riddled space, or sticking it to genocidal baddies... I really don’t think we could survive a few billion people like that._

_What you have is **heart**. _

_A damn good one._

_You’re really something, Sara, we’re all proud of you._

_Don’t be a stranger,_

_Harry_

 ---------------

Her chest tightened as she read; she could just hear the words spoken in his voice. There were light notes of sarcasm here and there, but it was deeply sincere.

Moreover, it wasn’t really about her feats as Pathfinder. Not really. It was about Sara as a person.

 

_You have a good heart, Sara._

She didn’t notice her mouth had slipped into a small smile. A bit of warmth spread through her being.

Sara hadn’t had many opportunities to visit the Hyperion cryo bay and Scott was still comatose. Even when she did make the trip to visit her brother, she almost never ran into Harry. In fact, the Bekker mission was one of the two times she had seen him. The second was when SAM established the comm link with her brother, and she had delivered a double-dose of unfortunate news. Neither situation felt like an appropriate setting for idle chat.

She missed him, even if she’d never say it aloud.

 

Adventures throughout Heleus had clearly not dulled her feelings.

_You would think that shady space smugglers, giant killer bots, and alien supremacists would somehow be enough of a distraction to take my mind off this._

 

She ran through the message a few more times. With each pass, more tendrils of doubt would pull her out of her daydream, sinking her heart a little further.

_Of course it’s ‘Sara.’ He’s got the other ‘Ryder’ under his care 24/7. Wouldn’t make sense to call us both that, dummy._

Another run through.

‘ _We’re all proud of you.’_ It sounded like a proud parent, not an admirer.

 

“Ryder,” SAM’s console on her desk blinked with a soft light, “we are scheduled to depart Aya at 0600. It is currently 0100. During your recent consultations, Dr. T’Perro has consistently expressed concern over your lack of sleep and its impact on your wellbeing.”

Ryder sighed softly, closing her omni-tool. “Yes, mother. I was there, too, believe it or not. All six times.”

She knew they were right. Too much depended on the Pathfinder crew’s efforts— _her_ efforts—for her to be distracted by selfish worries.

 

Galactic playwrights, however, had other plans.

Another ping announcing the arrival of an email.

_Gah. Should probably check that in the morning._

Ryder screwed her eyes shut.

 

It was only few minutes before she relented.

Unable to resist, Sara peeked at the preview.

                **_Need to Tell You_**

**To: Ryder**

**From: Harry Carlyle**

Her heart skipped a beat, despite her efforts to rationalize her way through the previous email. Holding her breath, she opened the message.

________________

                **_To: Ryder_**

**_From: Harry Carlyle_ **

_I apologize for sending this second message, especially knowing how busy you are. In truth, I almost didn’t._

_I believe, however, that I need you to know this._

_Just understand, Sara, that you give this old man hope._

 --------------

It was just a few sentences, but she swore her heart stopped.

_At this rate, good as you think my heart is, I’ll probably need a new one soon._

She lingered on the message, hazy warmth dissolving the tendrils of doubt.

 

“Ryder. Would you like to silence your omni-tool for the next five hours?”

 _Ugh. Way to kill the moment, SAM._ Sara rolled her eyes but couldn’t find it in her to be annoyed at the moment.

“Just one more message, SAM. I promise.”

 

Sara fidgeted nervously for the next hour. At first, she wrote many paragraphs. She wanted to tell him everything she’d been doing.

Then there was a version that was very nearly a confession. She quickly erased that one.

Ultimately, she settled on something short, even if it felt inadequate.

 ___________________

**_To: Harry Carlyle_ **

**_From: Ryder_ **

 

_Thanks for writing, Harry._

_I’m not sure how to express how much I appreciate your words._

_They’re keeping me going. More than you know._

_Take care of yourself. …And Scott, I guess._

_Don’t be a stranger,_

_Sara_

_Also. You’re not old. Stop that._

**\-----------**

After sending it off, Sara promptly closed her omni-tool. Her heart wouldn’t be able to handle another email.

She tried again to reason with herself, not daring to hope that there was a chance he didn’t see her as just Pathfinder. Or worse, Alec Ryder’s daughter.

Still, she couldn’t deny the stirring in her chest.

 

_The next time…_

_The next time we’re at the Nexus…_

_… I think I’ll go find Harry._

 

* * *

  

As luck would have it, she wouldn’t have to search.

But, because it was **_her_** luck, the circumstances were less than ideal.

 

“Pathfinder, your brother’s awake.”

 

Sara had been waiting 3 months to hear those words. And of course, when the moment finally came, the other Pathfinders were calling a critical meeting to discuss their plan to take Meridian. Ryder’s visit to the med bay would have to be short.

 

For once, and despite the tangle of emotions in her chest, Sara’s eyes didn’t linger on the doctor. She made a beeline for her twin. It was difficult to believe how much she missed the stupid pyjak.

After a few last checks on Scott’s vitals, Harry nodded in approval. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

 

“I’ve missed you so much, little brother.” Sara squeezed Scott so tightly she thought she heard a pop in his back. It felt like an eternity since she last heard his voice.

 “Well, honestly I feel like I just saw you a few minutes before my nap,” Scott laughed, “although somehow, I miss you, too.”

 

She settled down at the edge of Scott’s bed. It was so good to see him up again. It was wrong to see such a lively and mischievous person quietly asleep for so long.

“I’m sorry, Scott. I can’t stay long. I have to meet some, uh, I guess you could call them colleagues.” Sara’s heart broke a bit at the thought of leaving her brother in favor of a meeting.

“Right, I heard my sister was the all-important Madam Pathfinder, now.”

“Ugh… Yeah. It’s been alright, though. We’re getting by.”

“I’m sure you’re being modest, sis. You were always the overachiever.”

_I really don’t think that’s the way Addison sees it._

_Or Tann._

_Ugh._

_Fuck them. Seriously._

 

She appreciated the lightness in his demeanor, but she couldn’t shake the guilt of shocking her brother with the truth about their father and the state of the cluster while he was still asleep.

“Scott… About Dad and Habitat 7… I shouldn’t have dropped it all on you like I did. Shit, you were in a coma. I’m sor—” Scott held up a hand to stop her. There was a certain softness in his expression.

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you told me, Sara. I know you think I’ve been unconscious this whole time, but I did have some time to deal with it. Besides,” the rascal smirk returned, “if I’m hearing you in my dream, it’s already a nightmare. Hard to make it much worse. And, I’ve seen you ‘lie’ about, hm, _emotional_ stuff. Not impressed.”

 

Sara couldn’t keep the smile from stretching across her face. It was strange how much she missed his teasing, as insufferable as she usually found it.

 

“Do you know how long you’ll be here? I’d love to have you out in the field with me.”

“Hah! You say that now, but I’m sure you’d toss me out the airlock within a week.” Scott clapped her on the shoulder. She wished she didn’t notice the weakness in his arm. “In any case, I’m told I’ll be Harry’s problem for a couple weeks, at the very least.” Scott waggled his eyebrows playfully. Sara hated when he did that. “I bet you’re jealous.”

“Seriously? Not even an hour out of a coma—"

“Don’t worry, Sara. I’m sure I can figure him out.” Scott shot her a wink. She hated when he did that, too.

“Ugh, you know what? Let them have you.” Sara scrunched her face with feigned disgust. “You can be Harry’s migraine.”

 

A ping on her wrist. The other Pathfinders were assembled in the Nexus tech labs.

 

The levity in her face dissipated. She shot a forlorn glance at her twin, catching the look of dismay that he too couldn’t hide quickly enough.

Unshed tears burned the back of her eyes. Sara didn’t want to leave Scott behind. She knew he didn’t want to stay, either.

 

 “It’s okay, sis.” Scott’s voice was sober and reassuring. “I’m sure it’s important. I’ll be around, and you know I’ll be well taken care of. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“I’ll be back when I can, alright? And I’ll send you messages every day.” Sara hugged him one more time. “Love you, little brother.”

“Love you, too, sis. Now, go be a goddamn hero and make your superior twin proud.” Scott sent her off with a soft knock to her shoulder.

 

 

She caught the doctor on her way to the tram, just outside the med bay doors.

 

Before he could say anything, Sara threw her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Harry. For taking care of Scott.”

 

He was startled at first, but gingerly rested a hand on her back. “He was always going to be alright, Sara, but you’re welcome.”

She wished she could stay there forever, enveloped in his warmth and comforting scent.

Reluctantly, she stepped back to face him. “It’s good to have something to fight for, you know? Something _real._ ” She laughed. “Not that livable worlds and thousands of lives aren’t.”

“Yeah, no,” Harry nodded, “I get what you mean.”

 

The other Pathfinders were waiting, but before she left, Sara had one last thing she wanted to say.

“I meant what I said before, you know. You’re one of the people that keeps me going. And not just because you take care of Scott.”

Without waiting for a reply, Ryder waved goodbye and hurried off to the tram.

 

 

* * *

  

It was more than a week since Raeka initially proposed the plan, but all Pathfinder teams were still integrating and fine-tuning the Ghost Storm tech. If this was their one chance at securing Meridian, it had to be as close to perfect as they could get it.

Far from idle, Ryder’s team kept busy supporting both angaran efforts and Initiative outposts throughout Heleus.

 

Ryder was growing restless. She only grew more anxious when Suvi informed her that it might take a few more weeks to be ready, if they wanted to be thorough.

The longer they took, the more likely it was that Tann and the rest of leadership would catch wind of the op. Furthermore, while the risk was negligible, there was also a nonzero chance that the Archon would unlock Meridian’s secrets first.

 

While they had spent the previous week on outpost worlds, Gil required engine parts most easily procured from the Nexus. He was also pushing his recommendation for a few days of dry dock at the station, hoping to get the Tempest in the best shape possible. Ryder acquiesced, even extending the dry dock period for a few days. She knew Gil’s proposal of a few days was something of an underestimate and would likely result in him working 20-hour shifts for three days.

 

After tending to the most pressing of her errands, Ryder made her way to the Hyperion cryo bay. She had exchanged messages with Scott daily since he woke a week ago, but she hadn’t seen him in-person since then. She caught herself scanning the halls, searching for a particular silver-haired doctor. She reached Scott’s bedside without incident.

To her dismay, no silver-haired doctor in sight.

_You should have let Harry know you’d be on the Nexus._

 

It was good to see Scott. She sorely missed talking with him in-person. They talked about their parents, the amazing worlds Sara detailed in her emails, and reminisced about the Milky Way.

He goaded her into passing him a little gossip. The woman who looked under Jien Garson’s dress at the farewell gala was now the Tempest’s lovable science officer. Lexi had a soft spot for Kesh’s grandpa. Sara had rejected the advances of a _devilishly_ handsome smuggler.

It was a perfect segue.

 

“So…” A devious smile crept across Scott’s face.

“Scoooott…” Sara narrowed her eyes and drew out her twin’s name, like a knowing parent catching their child in the middle of mischief. “Don’t _._ ”

He ignored her, of course. “While you’ve been out saving the galaxy and stuff, I’ve been here. Obviously. Doing y’know, the _important_ work.”

“I’ll tell Tann you were the one who locked him in that Citadel storage closet,” she warned.

Scott didn’t seem to notice her threat. “He asks about you every day, you know. Too bad you didn’t stop by this morning. We had an… _especially_ productive chat today.” Scott’s smile had only widened. He’d emphasized his words temptingly.

Sara folded her arms on his bed and buried her face, groaning. She knew exactly who Scott was referring to. It clearly wasn’t Tann.

 

“You’re my brother. He’s a family friend. Of course you do.” In reality, she was itching to know exactly what they talked about, but she wasn’t going to admit it.

_Stop baiting me, you damn pyjak._

“He’s interested in more than just your tales of heroism. Not that they’re _that_ impressive, anyway. He asks about _you_ , Sara.”

“He’s a decent man, Scott. He was Dad’s friend.”

 **_Decent_ ** _. That’s an understatement._

 

It was Scott’s turn to groan. “God, Sara. You were always the dumb one.”

 

“ _What._ ”

 

Sara jolted up.

 _That’s my line_.

 

“Or, at least, the difficult one.” Scott chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Sure, you’re the ‘smart’ one, the combat goddess. You’re witty, okay. _Marginally_ funny. On occasion. But me? I’m the charming one. I, with my wily, wily ways, am the people-person.”

Scott always did have a way with people. He may have scored only slightly-above-average in both academic and combat exams, but his social aptitude was undeniable.

Beyond that, he exuded empathy and boasted an irresistibly casual demeanor. People were naturally drawn to him, and he had a way of opening them up.

 

Scott continued, “When it comes to like… the romantic stuff, you’ve always been a bit of a stick in the butt.”

“Stick in the _mu—_ you’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

Scott didn’t miss a beat. “What I’m trying to point out is, you never really put yourself out there, and I don’t get it. It’s not like you hate adventure. You loved running around the Traverse chasing those Prothean artifacts. Hell, you’re running around a new galaxy. Although, you’re still chasing some ancient advanced civilization so maybe there’s something to be said about being a creature of habit, but…”

He paused, his face softened. “How can you make such huge civilization-altering decisions out there, but you don’t act on these things that are just _for_ _you_? _Pathfinder Ryder_ jumps into the literal unknown on a daily basis. Where’s that sense of adventure in _Sara_?”

 

He sounded just like Lexi.

_More impulsive in the field that you are with your affection._

 

“Scott, you should be able to see why.” Sara’s voice was quiet, almost apologetic.

“You always tell me I have the capacity of a boiled peanut. So, spell it out for me.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “You’re really serious?”

“Deathly.”

 

Ryder fidgeted with her hands for a few moments.

_Where do I start?_

“Scott… He’s almost Dad’s age. He probably sees us as kids… Worse, _Alec Ryder’s_ kids.”

“Did you ask?”

“Of course not! That’s not something you _ask._ ” Sometimes she did question if that was true, only to stop herself, embarrassed at the prospect of seeing what she desperately wanted to.

“Okay.” Scott rolled his eyes. “What else?”

 

Another deep inhale. “Well, he’s the Hyperion doctor. He’s in charge of your well-being. It just… Ethically… I mean… Ever heard someone say that no romantic relationship between a patient and doctor is a consenting one?”

“Uh, sis, last I checked _I_ was the one stuck in the Hyperion med bay and you were out saving the galaxy. You’re _Lexi’s_ headache. And fortunately for you, you’ll find no rival in me for Harry’s affection. I’m _irresistible_ and you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Ryder ignored his quip. “You think he’ll see it that way? You don’t think there’s a particular professional dynamic that extends to me, too?”

“ _Saraaaa,_ you’re killing me!” Scott whined as his hands dragged down his face.

 

“Scott.” Ryder’s voice was firm now. “You say this is just a decision for _me._ It’s not. It’s about him, too. I can’t compromise his conscience like that. I can’t do that to him.”

A sharp inhale.

 

_Breathe._

A soft, controlled exhale. “I don’t want to be rejected. But more than that, if…”

Sara’s mind wandered to the words that had kept her going, and to the words that she thought she felt, but went unspoken.

 “… If he felt… I don’t want to force him into making that choice.”

_If he… If he does feel the same, I’d be asking him to choose between personal indulgence, and his obligations to the Initiative, to his patient… to Dad._

Pathfinder Ryder’s obligations weighed no less on Sara’s mind.

 

“It’s not really indulgence, Sara. I really don’t think that captures what this is.” Sara was taken aback at just how clearly her twin read all that she left unsaid.

Scott wasn’t grinning anymore. The knowing was clearly visible his eyes now, not veiled by humor. “But I _do_ think people deserve to make choices that make them happy, particularly when they dedicate so much of their lives to others.”

 

Scott sighed, uncharacteristically solemn. “I love you, sis… I just want you to be happy. I think that’s what Harry wants, too.”

Sara didn’t know how to reply. Some part of her had been waiting for a confirmation like that for years. Something _clear._ Something that finally encouraged her to stop burying her hope.

 

“Love you too, little brother. And… thanks.”


	4. A Beautiful View

Sara Ryder paced back and forth in her Tempest quarters like a caged adhi.

Her laser focus was trained on the message pulled up on her omni-tool.

_________________

**_To: Ryder_ **

**_From: Harry Carlyle_ **

****

_Hey, Sara. Hope all is well. Or, as well as it can be, all things considered._

_Scott’s doing well. Never shuts up. Can’t wait until he’s your problem again._

_I’m joking, of course. He’s a pleasure to talk to, but I know he’s itching to get back out there and be a hero with you. I promise the Ryder twins will be out wreaking havoc together in no time._

_Let me know if you’re ever on the Nexus and need a break. Christ knows I need one sometimes._

_Harry_

_\--------------_

Sara had left Scott’s side only a few hours ago. The timing was just too convenient.

_Downright suspicious, is what this is._

She barely had time to consider how she would broach the topic of her feelings for Harry.

 

_‘ **Especially productive** chat,’ huh, little brother? You’re worse than those old biddies that sit around and play bridge all day._

Still, it wasn’t as if Sara was going to complain. She wanted this. She just wasn’t sure how to proceed.

_We could meet at Vortex but… Liam’s always hanging around and I know he would join in. He’s just so… friendly._

Sara wanted Harry to herself, even if just for twenty minutes.

 

_Oh, god. And Lexi’s been going there recently._

_Nope. No Vortex._

___________________________

_**To: Harry Carlyle** _

**_From: Ryder_ **

****

_Hey Harry. If Scott gives you too much trouble, just have one of the nurses in-training do a few extra blood tests._

_I’m actually on the Nexus now, we just docked today._

_I know it’s a little late, and I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but I could use a moment to unwind._

_Let’s catch up if you’re free. Just… maybe not at the bar. Lexi’s acquired a taste for Dutch’s drinks. You can ask her about that yourself. Not touching it with a ten-foot pole._

_She stabbed me with a needle. In the hallway._

 

_Sara_

\----------------------- 

She felt the fluttering sensation rise in her stomach.

_It’s not a date. Just a chance to catch up. Unwind._

Sara repeated that thought over and over. Deep down, she likely knew that it would take more than that to overcome the years of longing that now seemed to be reaching a crescendo.

 

To avoid the painful agony of waiting for a reply, Sara busied herself with reviewing the ever-growing list of outpost requests she had compiled on her data pad.

_Voeld needs solar amps. Probably from Aya._

_Architect-worshipping cult? Ugh. Kadara. Naturally. Get there soon._

_Purchase vid, ‘Saucy Salarian-Volu-‘ Wha-? PeeBee! How is she getting into my stuff??_

Deleting PeeBee’s gag entry, Ryder wished she could cross more off. Unfortunately, the remainder of the expansive memo was comprised of legitimate tasks. It seemed that as soon as she left a planet thinking she had tied up all the loose ends she could, a million more would erupt as soon as they left the atmosphere.

_What, Sara, you thought it would be easy? Making a stupidly hostile alien galaxy livable for hundreds of thousands of diverse colonists? Scott’s right. You are the dumb one._

A ping.

 

It had only been a few minutes. Sara dared to let herself hope.

She glanced down.

The galactic playwrights had been kind this time.

 _____________________

_**To: Ryder** _

**_From: Harry Carlyle_ **

_Sadly, this isn’t the Citadel, so there aren’t many choices. I’m pretty sure Vortex is somehow the only bar in existence at the moment._

_I do, however, know of a great spot to escape._

_No fancy restaurant or drinks, unfortunately (not that you can find those anywhere on the Nexus, anyway), but it’s got a great view._

_We can make our way there from the Cultural Exchange’s upper balcony._

_I know it’s such short notice, but does 1930 work for you?_

_\-----------------_

 

_Is this…?_

It sounded almost like a date.

Sara couldn’t believe it. Two years of pining. Plus six-hundred more. Not a peep from either her or the doctor in all that time.

 

_And now after just a few months in a new galaxy?_

She hoped.

Maybe Andromeda was finally beginning to deliver.

 _________________________

**_To: Harry Carlyle_ **

**_From: Ryder_ **

****

_See you in thirty, then._

_\---------------------_

 

* * *

 

_Why did I agree to thirty minutes?_

Sara had barely enough time for a shower, never mind getting dolled up. Not that her limited wardrobe contained anything date-worthy, anyway. She’d never planned for one. Especially not since she became Pathfinder.

 

_Reminder: Not a date._

She circulated that thought over and over again, even if it lacked conviction. She hoped the mantra might help soothe her nerves. It didn’t really work.

Sara leaned over the railing overlooking the docks. Unsurprisingly, she glimpsed Vetra keeping a watchful eye on the workers shuffling supplies on and off the Tempest. She could have sworn she recognized one of the women as a smuggler from Kadara.

Lost in her thoughts, Sara didn’t hear the soft footfall of an approach.

 

“Hey there, stranger.”

 

Sara caught her breath.

She turned to face the owner of that velvety voice.

 

“Hey, Harry.”

Her greeting was far meeker than she intended.

 

Sara’s eyes lingered, as they so often did.

 

He looked like he had been as rushed as she was.

Silver hair slightly mussed. Soft green eyes, tired, but bright. The grey 5 o’clock shadow a little more pronounced than usual.

He was still in his clinic uniform, sans the gloves. Sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, above tan, corded arms. A cooler of some sort swung from one sturdy hand.

 

“Did you want me to help with that?” Sara awkwardly reached for the cooler.

“What, this?” He lifted the cooler up, away from her grasp. “Nah. I’m not so old and feeble I can’t carry this a few-dozen meters.”

“You weren’t at the clinic?”

“Ugh, thankfully my shift ended earlier in the afternoon today. I was home and my apartment’s not too far from here.”

There was no suggestion in his statement, but that didn’t keep the heat from creeping into Sara’s cheeks.

Sara shifted her weight. She wasn’t uncomfortable. She was anxious. Nervous. Eager.

 

“Sorry about the short notice,” Harry sighed apologetically, “I didn’t want to keep you too late.”

_Believe me, Harry, I wouldn’t have minded._

 

Smiling, Harry motioned to Sara to follow him away from the Cultural Exchange.

They passed the tech labs and entered the adjacent elevator.

 

“Sorry about the Vortex thing. I think I saw Lexi heading there again.” In reality, Sara wasn’t terribly sorry. Even if Lexi wasn’t around, Vortex was filled with noise, the stench of drunks, and probably at least three people who would ask the Pathfinder for a “small favor” that would end up turning into a cluster-wide scavenger hunt. Why that _always_ happened, she couldn’t say.

 

A low chuckle rumbled in Harry’s chest. “No problem. Lexi actually told me about your pep talk. I think she said something along the lines of: ‘ _sometimes—JUST sometimes, real wisdom comes out of that cheeky mouth of hers.’”_ Harry turned to face Sara. “Thanks for taking care of her. She’s really come to appreciate you, you know. Even if she puts up that hard-nosed exterior.”

 

A soft chime signaled their arrival.

 

Sara stepped out onto the vacant terrace, occupied only by shipping crates and empty display cases. They were a few levels above the bustle of the docks, and the dull pink in the sky panels signaled the onset of the evening cycle. Empty rooms with large windows lined the wall alongside the elevator.

She strolled over to the balcony railing. The chatter of the ground floor an indistinct buzz.

 

“These will be shops one day soon.” Harry leaned on the railing next to her. “Notice how much it looks like the Presidium Commons?”

“Yeah.” Sara could almost see the neon shop signs, flanked by news terminals and advertisements for the latest Blasto movie. “But where is everyone?”

“They haven’t moved in yet. Everything’s working. Lights come on. Elevator rides up smoothly. Lots of cargo has already been shuffled over. I guess they’re just trying to get the essential stuff like hydroponics fully set up before selling luxury clothing lines. Wouldn’t want the common folk to think Nexus leadership’s got _unreasonable_ priorities.”

_Tann? Unreasonable? Perish the thought._

 

“No one’s gonna jump us, right? I’ve had to deal with enough shady bastards on Kadara.”

“Hah. No. Guards sweep through regularly, but…” Sara thought she caught a sheepish look in his eye. “I asked a friend in security to keep it clear for the next couple of hours.”

“You come here often, doctor?” Sara teased playfully.

“Only when I’ve had enough of your brother,” Harry laughed as he settled on a crate and opened his cooler. “It’s certainly no Ryuusei, but have a seat, Sara. Again, I really need to apologize for the agonizingly meager spread. There aren’t many portable foods available besides rations.”

 

Sara set herself on a crate facing the doctor, watching as he unpacked the contents of his cooler.

Two glasses, a bottle of Akantha, a couple of sandwiches, some plant-based morsels, and—

 

_Harry, you didn’t—_

“Harry, is that...?” Sara’s eyes were wide and fixed on the last item placed on the crate between them. The doctor couldn’t contain his smile.

“Sorry, most things are still in storage. I could only find chocolate.”

“That… That’s fine. I love it. I haven’t had ice cream in so long…”

It wasn’t quite the same, but her mind flashed with memories of her favorite ice cream parlor on the Citadel.

“That’s good. Because you need to eat that first. It’s going to melt soon.”

 

It was, as the doctor had said, a simple spread. Yet, it was perhaps the most enjoyable meal Sara had since arriving in Andromeda. He marveled at her stories of the mysterious Remnant vaults and the kindness of the angara. She giggled at his retelling of Lexi’s misadventures at conferences and listened attentively as he told her the hopeful stories of the people who were waking from cryo.

 

She didn’t notice the terrace was now illuminated by hallway and shop lights. The night cycle had arrived, and the muffled buzzing of the docks had subsided. Only when Harry stood up did she notice the hours that had passed.

“I think we may have overstayed our allotted time, but there’s just one more thing.” Harry turned to Sara, extending a hand.

She didn’t take it immediately. It all felt so unreal. So dreamlike.

Her eyes met his. Assured by his warm smile, she reached up and allowed herself to be led to the terrace balcony.

 

The docks were lit up by shops closed for the night, terrariums, shuttles, and apartments. A small band of soft light outlined the artificial river separating the docks from the living quarters on the opposite side.

If Sara squinted hard enough, she might even mistake the view for the Citadel.

 

A soft sigh escaped Harry’s lips. “It’s hard to compare to Tevura Hall, but on this station, I think it’s about as close as you’ll get.”

“It’s still quite the view.”

_Just like you._

It seemed so peaceful. One would never know that not too long ago the scourge had scraped away huge sections of the station. That hundreds of would-be colonists, starving and desperate, revolted and were exiled. That alien supremacists plagued the cluster for decades.

“I can see why you come here,” Sara murmured, “I’d like to find a place like this, too. Somewhere I can escape, and not think about being Pathfinder Ryder. Even if just for a bit.”

 

Sara’s hand was still in Harry’s. Without thinking, she laced her fingers through his.

She felt his hand wrap snugly around hers.

 

_How far are you willing to push, Sara?_

Slowly, she leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt the warmth of his body against her cheek. He still wore that woody cologne with floral and citrus notes.

Her heart was racing. She had dreamed of this for so long.

_How much more do you want, Sara?_

 

“Thank you for this, Harry.” She raised her eyes to meet his. There were so many emotions flashing through those green windows, as many as she was sure he could see in hers.

Tentatively she raised herself on her toes, bringing her lips closer to his. She didn’t close the full distance. She left that decision to him.

 

She felt the warmth touch her lips. It was gentle, equally cautious.

Anticipation shuddered up her spine.

She savored the feeling of his lips against hers. So soft. So warm.

_I want more._

 

She brought her tongue to slowly trace his bottom lip, before dipping deeper into his mouth. He reciprocated, sliding his tongue against hers, bringing the sweet lingering taste of Akantha with it.

She felt his free hand travel smoothly up her back, pulling her closer and pressing her into his chest. She could feel his heartbeat now, racing as fast as hers.

Her own hand traveled up his chest and neck, into that gorgeous silver hair.

 

“Ryder.” A mechanical voice cut sharply through the air.

Sara flinched, pulling away.

_Now?? Of all times?_

“Seriously, SAM? Whatever it is, can’t it wait?” Sara groaned. She keenly felt the moment’s disruption.

“I detect multiple heat signatures in the staircase at the opposite end of this terrace. I believe they are security.”

“Well,” Harry cleared his throat, “to be fair, we did go a bit overtime.” He was trying for a lighter tone, but the strain of frustration was thinly veiled. “They’re just trying to keep unsavories at bay.”

“In three minutes, they will likely arrive within visual range,” SAM warned.

 

There was something so juvenile about the whole scenario: eager lovers scrambling to collect themselves and rushing to make their exit before getting caught. Sara felt like a teenager sneaking around her parents. Still, it was exciting. Invigorating. Even if that their moment had been rudely interrupted.

Harry must have felt the same. Even as they caught their breath in the elevator, he wore a smile brighter than any she had seen on him.

The ride to the lower floor was without words, but she was content in the silence.

 

A soft chime signaled their arrival.

 

_Does it end here?_

They stepped out of the elevator, lingering in the empty vestibule.

 

“Harry, I…” Sara didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

She knew what she wanted, just not how to say it.

_Can’t you take me with you?_

His soft green eyes lay on her. He too, seemed to be desperately searching for the words that could give voice to his desires.

He finally took her hand and sighed, a slightly deflated look on his face. “Sara, it’s getting late. I’m sure your crew are wondering where you are.”

 

The words stung a little. “Harry. I’m not a child. And, if I can survive every uninhabitable ‘golden world’ in Heleus _and_ make them habitable, nothing on the cushy ol’ Nexus is going to give me trouble. They know that. _You_ know that.”

He lifted his gaze away, pulling his hand to massage the back of his neck. “Yes. You’re right. It’s just that… I don’t…” He looked back to her, hesitant.

 

A familiar burn began to creep to the back of Sara’s eyes.

_Was it stupid to hope for more?_

But Ryders don’t cry. Certainly not about this.

 

She drew back, pulling her hand from his. The tendrils of doubt began creeping back.

 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Sara’s voice was soft. Controlled. Understanding. _Grounded._

She wouldn’t let him hear her voice crack. Not now. “I didn’t mean to push you. You were right. It’s late, and I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure you have an early shift in the morning.”

She gave a gentle smile and started towards the door.

 

“Sara, wait.”

 

She almost didn’t stop, but he reached out to catch her hand. There was a slight tremble in his voice. “Please, I… I _do_ want to talk to you about… about this.”

 

She paused to look back, nodding quietly.

He faltered, glancing at the tech lab doors. Sara saw it, too. She was unsure if the blinking consoles and shadows behind the frosted windows were tricks of the light or indicative of activity within.

 

He lowered his voice and continued, “I need to know what this is. Between us. I need to know what it is you want. I need to know that you’ve thought this through and that… That what you want, is within my ability to give.”

He exhaled sharply. The words clearly pained him. “Have no illusions, Sara. I’m not a young man anymore. I’m not a soldier. And I… I don’t know if I could handle this being just a fleeting encounter.” He held her gaze firmly, conveying the weight of his words.

 

She didn’t answer immediately. She knew he deserved a thoughtful answer. _She_ deserved a thoughtful answer.

 

After a while, she spoke, slowly and deliberately. “Harry. I’ve given this a lot of thought over the past couple of years. And since coming to Andromeda, being through everything that I have, I’m coming to understand myself better than ever.”

 “…I now know myself well enough to know what I want.” An unearthed confidence wove its way into her voice. “I also know how to recognize it in others.”

 

Then, Sara breathed the question on her mind. “Do you, Harry?”

She could tell that her words struck him. For a moment, he just stared back at her.

 

A loud clatter and string of curses in the tech labs confirmed they were indeed not completely alone.

 

“Sara, I know it’s late, but… I don’t think this is a conversation I want to have _here_.”

With that, she agreed. In truth, she wanted to ask him to take her to his apartment _now_. She wanted to confess tonight the fullness of her feelings for him. She wanted to hold him in bed and feel the warmth of his skin against hers.

His eyes told her that he wanted the same, which left her ill-prepared to receive his next words.

 

“And I don’t know if it is a conversation I want to have _now_.”

The sentence cut like glass.

 

_…What?_

 

Apprehensively, he continued, “Please, I _want_ to make this real. It’s just that I have so many things I want to say. I know it’s incredibly unfair for me to ask this of you, especially now, but… Could you give me a couple of days?”

 

“Are you… asking for _space_ , Harry? _Now?_ ” She could not disguise the shock in her voice.

_Why are you hesitating so much? Don’t you know that this **hurts**?_

 

“No! No, no. That came out wrong, I think. It’s _all_ coming out wrong.” He was clearly flustered, Sara thought his cheeks may have been a few shades darker than usual, although she couldn’t be sure in the dim lighting. Even so, she had never seen him quite like this before, so deeply vulnerable.

“I promise, Sara, I’m beyond ecstatic that you feel… I wasn’t sure if you’d… Especially with everything that…” He shifted his weight nervously. “I want to… to say things right. Please, I just…”

“…Could I ask you to trust me on this? I know that’s a tall order, but—” He trailed off, a beseeching look in his eyes.

 

 

She searched his face, finding only sincerity and a familiar longing that mirrored her own.

 

 

_I trust you, Harry._

She did not believe he was doubting his decision to be with her this evening, and she could not deny the intense storm of emotions roaring behind his eyes.

Something inside told her that she did not need to doubt him, nor herself.

 

_I trust **me**._

 

 

She brought her lips up to gently meet his. “Alright, Harry. Just don’t keep me waiting for too long. I’ve spent a lot of time already waiting for this. For you.”

 

Relieved, he pulled her into his arms. “I promise.”

He tightened his embrace, holding her as close as he could, before he whispered, “I’ve been waiting, too.”

 

The evening did not end as she had planned, but Sara felt the tight tangle in her chest slowly begin to loosen into velvety ribbons of warmth.

 

 

* * *

 

Sara quietly boarded the Tempest without incident, deftly sliding down the ladder from the bridge to her quarters.

 

“Sara Ryder.”

Then came a familiar stern voice from the galley. Lexi’s use of Sara’s full name reminded her of a scolding parent.

 

Sara replied weakly. “Hi, mom.”

“May I ask what Pathfinder business you’re up to at this hour?”

“Lexi,” Sara whined, “it’s 0000. It’s not that late.”

The doctor only folded her arms, wearing the hardened expression she reserved for admonishing patients. “How many times must I remind you that you need a decent amount of sleep to function properly? What could possibly be so pressing that you’ve been out running around the Nexus until now?” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index. “I swear, you and Gil… You are going to work yourselves to death.”

 

_Pressing business? Like potential cross-species superbugs? Having Initiative security compromised by Liam? And finding three whole-entire-fucking-arks?_

_Or hiding discrete devices that play looping audio tracks of ‘Perry the Pyjak’ songs around Tann’s office?_

_Lexi, these past few months have been **nothing but** unending sequences of pressing business and urgent crises._

_…Besides, why are **you** awake?_

 

Still, Sara relented. She didn’t feel up to badgering the doctor this evening. “Fine. It wasn’t Pathfinder business. I just… I just needed some time away, to clear my head and sort through some… thoughts. It was good. It was something I really needed to do.”

 

A look of surprise briefly crossed Lexi’s face before it softened. Sara just _knew_ Lexi was psychoanalyzing her.

_Ugh._

Then, a small—and possibly knowing—smile spread across her lips. “I’m pleased you finally took that time for yourself to examine your feelings.”

Lexi shifted her attention back to preparing her cup of herbal tea. Her next words were so muted, Sara nearly missed them. “I’m glad you both did.”

 

Sara chose to ignore that last part, at least for now.

“Thanks for caring, Lexi. G’night.”

 

“Good night, Sara.”


	5. Looking Forward

They were still stuck on the Nexus, giving Gil and the other technicians time to work on the Tempest in dry dock. While her crewmembers went about their own business, Sara Ryder occupied herself with facilitating Nexus operations. She spent time coordinating strike team ops with Kandros, managing cryo deployments with Brecka, and working on a documentary with the bright-eyed Keri T’Vessa. She even found time to have a drink with the other Pathfinders. There wasn’t really a shortage of things to do, but being confined to the Nexus without the distractions of the field left Sara restless.

She was also eagerly awaiting a message from a certain silver-haired doctor.

 

Sara had been to the Hyperion med bay each evening to visit Scott. It was two days since she had met with Harry on that terrace overlooking the docks and she hadn’t run into him at the med bay. Scott of course, had caught wind of their meeting by the following day and had a triumphant sparkle in his eye. To her surprise, however, he didn’t pry and was content to pass her unrelated gossip he had gathered from the nurses and med techs.

 

They were sharing a laugh over the thought of Tann frantically searching his office for the source of rambling Salarian singing and pyjak squeals, when a ping announced the arrival of a new email.

Sara didn’t think to check it, at first. She was indeed waiting for a correspondence from a certain someone, but her omni-tool had been inundated with messages. Her inbox had flooded with requests, especially since she was unable to visit other systems in-person for a few days. She forgot she had silenced all incoming mail, apart from what SAM marked as urgent or those that were received from specific individuals.

 

“Hey, sis,” Scott gestured to her omni-tool, smiling, “I think you should check that.”

“Hm?” She absently pulled up the preview.

**_Hope the wait wasn’t too long_ **

**_To: Ryder_ **

**_From: Harry Carlyle_ **

Sara eyed her twin suspiciously. “Little brother. Are you in on this? _Again?_ ”

 

“No, no,” Scott laughed, “I think my part’s done, thank the powers that be. Now I just get to kick back and watch the fruits of my labor.”

Scott scanned the room quickly and whispered, “You might be surprised by how many bitter rivals you had. I think most of them now know for sure who’s to blame for Harry blowing them off for almost four months.”

Ignoring the second part, Sara’s eyes narrowed further. “Just out of curiosity, was it really all just _your_ handiwork? Were you at all colluding with Lexi?”

 

Scott was clearly a bit disappointed she hadn’t reacted jealously to his rival comment, forming an exaggerated pout before responding. “Not intentionally. I haven’t talked to Lexi since the Milky Way, honestly. I wish I could have. It would have been a lot more fun.”

He stretched back, a lazy smile replacing the frown. “But seriously, Sara. She lives on the Tempest 24/7. She’s trained specifically in xenobiology and psych. _And_ she’s one of Harry’s closest friends. I know he mentioned meeting her down at Vortex once or twice. Who can say what they discussed?” He shook his head. “Surely, you didn’t think this was ever gonna get by her?”

“No,” Sara sighed, “I didn’t think it would.”

 

_I guess I owe you both one, then._

 

 

“Anyway,” Scott waved his hands, as if to usher her away, “I’ve got a schedule to keep, so you should get going.”

“You—Are you kicking me out? You’re not going to do anything but sleep!”

“You’d never know it, but being suspended in stasis for 634 years, followed by a 3-month nap, then a series of daily 12-hour ones really takes the energy out of you. Seriously. I wish I were lying.”

_I know what you’re doing, you pyjak._

_But… Thanks._

_For always giving that push when I need it._

 

Sara gave him a hug before leaving the med bay. As soon as she was out the doors, she opened the awaiting message.

_________________________

**_To: Ryder_ **

**_From: Harry Carlyle_ **

****

_Hey Sara,_

_Like I said, I hope the wait wasn’t too long. I hope you’ll forgive me for the delay. I truly appreciate your patience and understanding._

_Scott tells me you’ve been stopping by in the evening? Sorry I missed you. My shifts have all been early morning to afternoon._

_I hope this means that we’ll both be available sometime soon._

_Whenever you’re free, could we meet? Same spot by the Cultural Exchange?_

_With love,_

_Harry_

\------------------------

Sara was done with the waiting. Impatience held her heart in an iron grip.

_You’d better have a very convincing reason for dragging this out, good doctor._

 

**________________________________ **

**_To: Harry Carlyle_ **

**_From: Ryder_ **

****

_2000 tonight._

_Don’t keep me waiting._

 ----------------------------

 

* * *

  

_Commander of the Tempest. Human Pathfinder. Savior of the Turian, Asari, and Salarian arks. Operator of hyper-advanced, terraforming Remnant technology._

_…You’d think I’d be able to find a decent outfit._

The best she could do was a fitted leather jacket over a plunging V-neck. It was between that, a Blasto tank, and a hoodie. At least the leather jacket looked the least like pajamas.

 

_Shit._

She saw him first, casually leaning over the glass railing in front of the Cultural Exchange. She nearly turned-tail and booked it back to the Tempest out of embarrassment.

He wore a dress shirt, not unlike the one he wore under his suit at the Initiative farewell gala. This one was navy-blue and complemented his skin tone perfectly, and the sleeves were rolled up in the way that she found alluringly distracting.

His slacks were those he wore with his clinic uniform, but combined with the shirt, had assumed a new air of sophistication. His hair was perfectly styled. Neat and meticulous, just like him.

She suddenly felt deeply inadequate.

 

“Sara!”

_Ah. Too late to run._

He approached quickly, pulling her into a warm embrace. Her feelings of unease quickly melted away, and she stood on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

That fresh, invigorating scent engulfed her like a refreshing mist.

 

“Are we going upstairs to do some luxury clothes shopping, again?” Sara pulled away to gesture at her outfit. “I think I could use a new wardrobe.”

Harry only smiled, his eyes lingering on her features in a way that was all too familiar. “Only if you want to, although it may not be quite as exclusive as our previous shopping trip.”

“Did you have somewhere else in mind?”

_Although, I don’t know of anywhere on the Nexus that would be worth dressing like that._

He smiled sheepishly. “If you’re alright with it, we could go back to my apartment? It is the most private location I can think of.”

 

_YES. I AM OKAY WITH THIS._

“Sure, that’s alright with me.”

_Nailed it._

 

* * *

 

His apartment wasn’t far, in the same block as PeeBee’s old hideout but on a higher floor.

It smelled like him, as if the whole apartment had been steeped in that lovely fragrance. It was small and tidy, if a bit barren.

Harry busied himself in the kitchenette. It was situated to the left of the unit, separated from the main area by a stylish shelf, mostly empty with the exception of some data pads, binders, and several houseplants. The main area was furnished only with a sofa, coffee table, and screen, much like many of the other Nexus apartments Sara had seen.

Sara took the opportunity to show herself around. At the far end of the apartment, a wide metallic door opened to the bedroom, through which the modest bathroom was also accessed. Sara blushed at the immaculate platform bed, restless thoughts flooding her mind. Immersed in her daydreams, she barely noticed the passing minutes or aroma of food wafting throughout the small apartment.

 

 

“Sara?” She heard Harry call from the main room. “I hope you like vegetables. Not much fresh meat on the Nexus, and I wasn’t about to feed you adhi.” A beat. “Although, from what I hear, adhi’s pretty good. When I get my hands on some, I’ll let Scott be the guinea pig.”

 

She exited the bedroom as Harry was setting dishes resembling stir fry on the table. He’d also set out some wine, sliced fruit, basic ration crackers, and some surprisingly fine-looking cheese.

“First ice cream? Now cheese? _Good_ cheese? Harry, where are you getting all this stuff?”

“You’d be surprised what you can find on the black market. Especially from Kadara.”

 

Sara’s eyebrows arched in surprise.

 

“Not me, of course, but your friend Vetra is very resourceful.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Did I have you for a moment?”

“Not even close,” she lied. “Wait. Vetra? When did she—? Harry, how many people are in on this? And for how long?”

“Only Vetra and Lexi, I promise. And Scott, I guess, although his ass has been in bed this whole time. All others are completely innocent, I assure you.” Harry poured a glass from the slim bottle on the table. “Is Canadian ice wine okay with you? I still have some Akantha, if you prefer, or… water…”

 

Sara settled on the couch and accepted the readied glass from his hand.

The stir fry was delicious—thanks to spices he brought from Earth rather than his cooking skills, Harry had said—and paired well with the wine.

Their conversation was light and easy, a familiar pattern Sara was happy to fall into. She did not, however, forget the nagging thought at the back of her mind.

 

Finally, she broached the topic.

“Harry, why did you ask me to wait until tonight? Why couldn’t we have come back here two nights ago?”

 

Harry’s hand travelled to the back of his neck as he let out a heavy sigh. “Things moved… kind of fast that night, faster than I expected, and I was afraid I was pushing you. In retrospect, it was unfair of me to force my request on you like that or frame it in the way that I did. You’re a strong, intelligent, and capable woman who is more than able to make her own choices, but I wanted you to think about it. I don’t want you to have spur-of-the-moment regrets that you cringe about in the future.” He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Christ knows I made _a lot_ of those when I was your age.”

He let his hand fall back into his lap. “Besides not wanting to burden you with memories of ‘ _that creepy old guy I definitely should have stayed away from_ ,’ I also wanted to be composed enough to tell you how I feel. How I’ve felt for longer than I want to admit.” Nervousness was edging into his voice. “You deserve to hear it upfront.”

 

“Sara,” he turned to her, “I want you to know, that you are the single most amazing person I have ever met in all my years. You are beautiful in a way I can’t adequately describe, and your heart—your compassion, kindness, and understanding—is the sole thing that is making this damnable cluster brighter.”

He paused to meet her eyes, searching for any hint of discomfort. Not finding any, he took a deep inhale. “And, being with you, even if you would prefer it to be as friends or colleagues, is one of the most fulfilling things in my life.”

“I… love you, Sara. And I’m so sorry I didn’t have the courage to say all of this that night. Before you decide where you want to take this, I needed you to know that. I needed you to know where I stand, and what kind of person you might be taking into your life. I hope I didn’t push you too far, or reveal so much that it unsettles you.”

He gently took her hand in his. “I also need you to know that I will respect and understand your decision, whatever it may be. I’ve been through a lot in my life, but you’re just starting yours. Be mindful of the experiences that may await you. I trust that you’ll make the decision that is best for you, and I will support it with all my heart, because _that_ is all I want.”

 

They sat there in silence, the air hanging heavy with the weight of Harry’s words. There was no pleading in his soft green eyes, no begging for Sara to accept him. There was only a quiet sincerity, patiently waiting for her to absorb everything he had put forth.

 

She could not contain the overwhelming burn in her eyes, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. As she saw the worry descend upon Harry’s face, she leapt to wrap her arms around him.

“You idiot,” came her muffled sob, “how dare you call the man I love a ‘creepy old guy.’”

She leaned back to look at him, framing his face in her hands. “You’re right, you know. I _do_ know what is best for me and my future.” She smiled, trying to stifle her sniffles, a task made harder by the sight of Harry’s eyes, glossy from restraining his own tears. “I hope I can build it with you.”

 

He brushed her cheek with his thumb, drying the streams on her face. “Sara, I think you know that nothing in all of Andromeda would make me happier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Next Chapter nsfw. Nothing lost by skipping it.


	6. Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so, a couple things.  
> 1) This is nsfw. If that's not for you but you're still interested in following the story, just skip to the next chapter. You won't miss anything except the nsfw stuff.  
> 2) If it's not already clear, I've never written a fic prior to this piece, never mind smut omg... so, yeah...

_Is… Is this real?_

_Am I dreaming again?_

Only months ago, Sara was absolutely certain that her affections were one-sided.

Now, she sat facing Harry, his hand tenderly caressing her face, drawing soft circles on her cheeks.

She was so close to him. Not just physically. For the first time since they met, their feelings were laid bare for the other to see. It was a moment years in the making. A moment to cherish.

 

Sara’s heart quickened in her chest, a fast beat approaching a crescendo. It was a rhythm that spoke to the stirring needs and heat rising in her core.

 

Slowly, her lips gravitated to his as she pulled herself into his lap, her legs splayed out to the sides. Gently at first, she slid her tongue against his. The low purr from his chest rolled into her, his hot breath mingling with hers.

It felt even more real than the kiss on the terrace.

_God, if this is a dream, please don’t let me wake up._

Starving for more, she delved further in, desperately seeking the velvety softness and sweetness that was him. Her hands traveled from his jaw to the collar of his shirt, scraping the silver 5 o’clock shadow on their way down.

Sara kept him locked deep in the kiss while her fingers searched eagerly for the buttons, unfastening them as quickly as they could, only pausing to let her jacket be tugged free.

Finding no more buttons, her hands slid freely against his skin, exploring his bare chest and relishing the heat.

 

She pulled away to admire him, his open shirt still draped over his shoulders like dark curtains. His tan body was handsomely lean, sculpted by a healthy lifestyle and, until recently, field ops. Her eyes followed her wandering fingertips through the sleek silver hair on his chest and to his shoulder, lingering on the muscles that had been criminally underemphasized in his clinic uniform. His lips had curved into an impish grin; she knew he was flattered by the simmering lust in her gaze.

Hungrily soaking in his features, she slipped the garment off his shoulders, unveiling a series of unexpected tattoos sprawling across his right bicep. It was a story she’d love to hear, but not tonight. The impatience in her chest only swelled as his hands slid under her own shirt, fingers applying light pressure as they explored her skin. She tossed her top to the floor, allowing him to marvel at her in the way she had done to him. A subtle click as he unfastened the problematic hook at the back of her bra.

 

He gingerly kissed her neck, but let his teeth scrape her chest as he gradually made his way down to her breasts. She ran her hands through his hair, shuddering as he took a tip into his mouth, suction holding it in place as he tugged. His tongue swirled and teased at the bud, the quick, slippery friction accentuated by the steady pressure. A gasp passed her lips as he firmly gripped the other between nimble fingers. No longer able to contain the restlessness in her core, she tightened her legs around his hips and rasped into his ear, “Please… just take me to bed.”

She now saw it in his eyes, too, that smoldering desire. The shadows that flickered behind the green windows were lively and betrayed the primal ache that burned within. His sturdy hands shifting under her thighs, Harry hoisted her up and made his way to the bedroom. Biting at the muscles in his neck and enjoying the subtle taste of his skin, Sara clutched at the tense bunching of his bare biceps, reveling in the strength that rippled below her palms. She had waited over 600 years to feel him like this.

 

He set her gently on the edge of the bed, standing between her thighs. She felt the scratch of stubble and nips at the back of her neck as she began unfastening his slacks. He followed her lead, sliding her pants and underwear off with ease. His black trunks were deeply flattering on his physique, and Sara almost thought it a shame to remove them. Years of longing, however, had whittled away her patience.

She tucked her fingers into his waistband, but he nudged her away before she could do anything more.

“Not so fast.” Harry teased softly, kissing her hands as he lowered himself in front of her. His voice, smooth and hushed, flowed like satin. Still, she thought she heard a slight undercurrent of devilish cockiness tinting his words.

Sharper than usual, his eyes locked with hers as he firmly massaged her thighs, working his way up and in, easing them open.

Leaning back and propped up on her elbows, Sara watched with hungry anticipation.

 

The heat of his breath brushed her inner thigh, his tongue trailing inward at an agonizingly slow pace. He was carefully watching the need in her eyes grow, waiting for the hunger to border painful. After waiting for so long, she could not help but shiver and drip with arousal. When he was finally satisfied that he had whet her cravings, he kissed and caressed her folds before slipping deeper in, pressing and sliding in a manner that spoke to years of experience.

Sara brought her hand to her mouth, biting a knuckle to stifle her pleasured whimpers. His tongue flicked up, finding her weak point with ease. Her breaths came hard and ragged, her control waning as his lips deftly applied pressure and suction, his tongue skillfully navigating her weak spot. It became even harder to contain herself when she felt his fingers nimbly slide into her with ease. It wasn’t long before the heat trickled down his wrists, her whimpers and panting clear indicators of her contentment.

 

Pushed past her point of release, Sara drooped limply, offering her shaking elbows a slight reprieve. She felt him rise, his bare body leaned over hers, the heat generating a tingling charge around her.

His breath was hot on her neck when he whispered, “Are you ready now, Sara?”  She only managed a weak nod in response, her own breaths still coming fast and shallow.

 

She felt him slip a pillow beneath her for support and pull her closer to where he stood at the edge of the bed. Her breath caught as she watched him slip out of his trunks, admiring his firm readiness. He brushed against her entrance as he lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders, anticipation sending fire up her spine. She shuddered as he guided himself into her, savoring the deep, full sensation.

Her own body swayed with his rhythm, gentle at first, gradually picking up pace. Sara felt herself tighten around him, relishing the feeling of his girth and rim sliding against her inner walls. The sturdy grip of Harry’s hands on her hips, his increasingly rough breaths, the heat and friction of his body against hers, it was a cocktail of ecstasy more intoxicating than any of Sara’s idle daydreams. Something in her was guilty, but not remorseful, at the gratification she felt while watching him plunge into her.

 

Resting on his shoulders, Sara’s legs felt the muscles below tense as he approached his own threshold. His rhythm faltered shortly, a slight rasp in his breath.

The tense lines in his toned shoulders flexed and relaxed as heat blossomed in Sara’s core.

Harry stood motionless for a few moments, catching his breath. Sara felt a subtle shudder pass through his shoulders as he stroked her legs.

 

He slipped out of her, straightening his back and carefully setting her legs down.

 

Harry released a sharp and heavy exhale, dropping himself next to her at the edge of the bed. He turned his head back toward her, allowing his eyes to travel up and down her physique.

She too, took the time to admire the lines and definition of his back. She was still savoring the encounter, her mind fixed on the image of him standing above her.

They let their gaze linger awhile more. How was it, that for two years, she remained oblivious to the fact that her longing was so clearly mirrored in him?

 

It was Sara who finally broke the silence with a sheepish admission. “I uh, hate to say it, but I think I need a few minutes before round two.” Her core still thrummed with the tingle of endorphins and adrenaline, her weak points still throbbing with sensitivity. Their first time together had flooded her systems with an overwhelming symphony of sensation and emotion.

His eyes didn’t move from her, but the corner of his mouth turned up. “What, Sara?” His voice dripped with a seductive confidence that reminded her of the time before Habitat 7. “The Pathfinder can’t keep up with this arthritic old man?”

_Pssshhh. ‘Arthritic old man’ my ass._

He considered for a moment, before turning to leave the bed. “Well, since we have to wait a few minutes for _someone,_ ” Harry placed a soft kiss on her palm, _“_ I have something I wanted to show you.”

“What?” Sara whined. “Can’t you just stay and cuddle me for a bit?”

“There will be plenty of time for that later,” he reassured her before exiting to the main area.

 

She heard shuffling and the opening of cupboards. He soon returned, a lidded box in his hands. On both lengths, the box was about as long as her forearm, but no taller than a drinking glass.

He took his spot next to Sara on the bed. “Someone may have distracted me earlier. _Just_ a little,” he laughed softly, the cockiness ebbing from his voice. Harry’s eyes shifted between Sara and the box in his hand, “but I had one more thing prepared for you.”

After a pause, he held it out to her. 


	7. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow first half, but picks up. I think...

“What is this?” Sara asked idly, sitting up to take the box from Harry’s hand. The contents didn’t shift, as if they were packed tightly inside.

“Why would you ask me that when you could just open it and see for yourself?”

“We’re not getting married already, are we? Because this is a pretty big box. Not that I don’t deserve it, it’s just that I don’t think a rock this big would fit on my finger.” Tentatively, she lifted the corner of the lid. She could feel Harry’s eyes on her, eagerly waiting to see her reaction.

Pulling the cover away, Sara’s eyes opened just a bit wider, taking time to register the box’s contents.

She looked back up to him, his expression sheepish, excited, and apprehensive all at once.

 

“Harry, is this…?”

Everything was neatly arranged, fit together efficiently and meticulously. There were two full sets of clothes, comfortable and casual, but nice enough to wear in public. A toothbrush, loofah, and scented soap, shampoo, and even conditioner. Barring the toothbrush, all items had become luxuries in Andromeda, and Sara was sure they must’ve commanded a hefty price. Nestled on top was a slip of paper with an access code.

“…Is this the key to your apartment?”

 

He shifted back and forth, still seemingly unsure of how to read her reaction. “Yes, I mean, if you ever need to get away from the Tempest, you’re always welcome here. It’s a quiet escape, and I’ll be down at the clinic quite often, so you can have the place to yourself. Or—”

She halted him with a kiss. “Silly. I don’t know why you think I wouldn’t want you around.”

Curious, she opened one of the bottles, releasing the delicate jasmine aroma.

It sure beat the dispensary stuff she was using on the Tempest. She wondered how much he traded for something as lovely as this.

“Vetra, huh?” Sara recalled Vetra mentioning something about procuring fancy soaps back on Elaaden, right before they had returned to the Nexus.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he often did when he was nervous, “although Lexi is the one who uh, advised me. I received a rather severe tongue-lashing for having such poor taste in women’s bathstuffs.”

She chuckled softly, but couldn’t immediately find a response.

 

She was touched by his thoughtful gesture, but a small pang of guilt dug into her thoughts. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “You put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?”

Harry’s hand hadn’t moved from his neck. “It was a little rushed, really, and it’s not like I spend my time saving the galaxy. To be honest, this all came together over the course of a week.” He allowed his hand to drop to his lap. “It’s embarrassing to admit that it took me this long to confess. Fortunately, your brother and Lexi were… encouraging.”

She stifled a giggle, knowing exactly what he meant.

_Meddling pyjaks. But I’m happy they did. I hope you are, too._

 

“Out of curiosity,” Sara’s voice was slightly teasing, “What were you going to do with this stuff if tonight… didn’t pan out like it did? I mean, you did make me wait two extra days and it was almost like you were expecting me to say ‘no.’” She nudged him lightly. “Something about ‘pushing me too fast?’”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but still wore a nervous smile. “Lexi helped me to pick everything out. I guess she would have taken it?”

“Harry” Sara wasn’t sure if she should point out the obvious. “You know this is _shampoo_ and _conditioner,_ right…?”

“…Uh… Yes? Is there something wrong?”

_Lexi. Is. Bald._

_…Technically._

“No! No. It’s a lovely set! I’m sure anyone would have appreciated it. I’m glad it’s me.” She planted another kiss on his cheek. “Really. This is amazing and I love it all.” Somehow, pointing out Lexi’s lack of hair felt like an insult.

 

Sara’s face softened as she read the worries lingering in his expression. “And for the record Harry, this doesn’t feel ‘too fast.’” She paused for a moment. “I think it feels more like… coming home.”

The words seemed to put him at ease, visibly dissolving the tension in his face. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he drew her into a gentle kiss. She leaned into him as well, a hand trailing down his torso. Feeling his bare skin was still such a novel experience—a pleasure she was sure wouldn’t diminish anytime soon.

 

Sara’s hunger began to stir once more. Carefully, she set the box on the nightstand, the mischievous glint in her eyes quietly announcing her intentions.

“So…” She turned back to Harry, placing a hand on his chest and gradually pushing him down into the bed. “When can I move the rest of my stuff in?”

Harry allowed her to guide him, a grin spreading across his face as he watched her move to straddle his waist. “Anytime you like. Just… Maybe not the actual live pyjak.”

* * *

 

For the remainder of their time in dry dock, Sara spent her nights at the apartment. Even after the Tempest returned to full function, they made routine stops at the Nexus. In spite of all the hardships and challenges of being a Pathfinder in a new galaxy, Sara had finally found something of a home to return to.

The next two weeks were almost story like. She could hardly believe it; the pieces of a new _life_ —rather than _existence_ —in Andromeda seemed at last to be coming together.

She was almost sure it was a dream, that at some point she would have to wake and face the reality that it was all an intricate fantasy woven in her head.

 

 

It wasn’t a dream, but a rude awakening arrived, nonetheless.

It arrived like a sudden storm’s first thunderclap on a calm spring morning.

 

* * *

 

 

That storm was Meridian. The third time Sara rose from the dead, the world again greeted her not with angelic music and comforting words, but a harsh cacophony of desperate crises and impending doom.

Ryder was disconnected from SAM.

The Archon had taken the Hyperion.

He had control of Meridian’s systems.

And he was turning all of it against them.

 

It felt like they had lost everything.

Like _she_ had lost everything.

_I knew it._

“Kid! Your six!” Drack’s gruff warning echoed across the platform. A crackling crunch followed as Ryder whirled around to bring her omni-blade’s bite to an assembler’s glowing core. She no longer flinched at the flying sparks or sputtering ferrous fluid that burned her face.

_I fucking knew it was going to go to shit._

Her shotgun poked out from under her arm still embedded in the assembler, just in time to incapacitate an approaching observer. Another shot to the breacher not far behind.

 

_One whole year. They’ve been sitting out there for a WHOLE GODDAMN YEAR, and those stupid bastards didn’t bother to prepare for an inevitable kett attack??_

Reflexively cocking her gun, she slid past a nullifier to flank its unshielded rear. Two shots and a thrust of her omni-blade before it crumpled to the ground.

Ryder vaguely remembered Kandros complaining about Addison and Tann not taking his advisories seriously.

_Right. ‘Tann? Unreasonable? Perish the thought.’ Fucking Addison, too._

And now, the Hyperion was paying for it. Humanity was paying for it. _Scott_ was paying for it. If Ryder failed, the _whole cluster_ would pay for it.

_No pressure._

 

The architect’s head was open, spraying explosives across the area surrounding Ryder. A deft dodge and jump. Hovering in midair, a prepped Cobra RPG launched from her wrist at the exposed conduit. A satisfying explosion of flame and the monster recoiled, its assault briefly interrupted.

_I knew these past two weeks were just too good to be real._

Not a moment’s rest as she dropped back to the ground. Ryder lurched forward as a breacher hooked onto her shoulders, clawing at her with icy metal limbs. A growl and flash of biotic sparks erupted as she ripped it away, lobbing it at its parent assembler.

_A goddamn façade. A cruel fucking dream._

A quick survey of the battlefield. Drack was viciously tearing apart a nullifier. Another lay at his feet, obliterated by his hammer. Vetra’s shields were up, drawing the fire of several observers. The architect’s attention remained trained on Sara, raring up for another rapid-fire barrage. Scott was straining to expose the next access point.

Unclear, but familiar emotions bubbled up like molten rock.

_…No. No, that’s not what it was._

_It was **real**. And I **will** have it again._

 

A deep rage fueled Sara, adrenaline pumping furiously as she charged across the platforms, cutting down enemies with a tenacious resolve that until today, had never burned so brightly. It was hatred, anger, grief, and desperation, melded together into a roaring force of destruction. This was about more than hijacking the ark. More than the grievous horrors inflicted upon the angara, salarians, and krogan. More than her own death at kett hands or what they were doing to her brother.

_You will not take all that I’ve fought for._

_You.   Will.   Not._

 

Perhaps it was selfish, but when she heard the Hyperion had been seized by the Archon, there was only one face that came to mind. Those soft green eyes and neatly styled silver hair. That familiar 5 o’clock shadow and healthy, tan complexion. A gentle smile that made everything better.

When he did not answer her comm hails, it took every ounce of her strength to still the doubt that threatened to crush her heart.

_You will not take my hope._

 

The last access point was in sight. The enraged architect hissed as a final wave of Remnant reinforcements materialized between Ryder and her target. Their sheer numbers assured her that this was the last desperate line of defense. Despite Sara’s heaving breaths and intense fatigue, a blue aura crackled around her, biotics overcharging with anticipation and rage. The corner of her lip turned up, not quite a snarl nor a smile.

**_I won’t let you_ ** _._

 

* * *

The fight was brutal and lengthy, its urgency further warped by Scott’s pained cries. Even fighting alongside the entirety of the Tempest crew, the kett, architect, and Remnant army had taken their toll on everyone.

Despite the odds, however, they were somehow victorious. The Archon’s lifeless body lay abandoned on the cold floor. Scott was stable, even if shaken. The Hyperion was safe, as was its beloved captain. Factions throughout the cluster had finally shown a unity that proved they could all call Heleus ‘home.’

Sara Ryder poured these sentiments into her brief speech outside the Meridian vault. She had grown into a real leader, truly the Pathfinder that the Initiative needed. She knew how important it was to inspire hope in others, even when her own heart remained heavy. Alec Ryder would be proud.

Sara should have felt fulfilled. Elated. Victorious. But the euphoria still eluded her. She had only _just_ found _her_ home in Heleus, in the person she wanted to build her life with. And he still hadn’t answered his comm.

 

A ping.

 

“Ryder?” It was Dunn. “There’s someone who wants to speak to you.”

Sara’s heart skipped a beat. _Please, please. Let it be him._

Sara’s response came quickly and eagerly, “Put him through.”

 ‘Him.’ She didn’t even catch that the person to whom Dunn was referring might in fact be a woman. Perhaps her hope had blinded her to other possibilities.

 

An indistinct clatter in the background on Dunn’s end.

People shuffling out of the way.

Barely audible repetitions of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me.’

Sara didn’t breathe. But she hoped.

 

_Please._

 

_Please let it be him._

Finally, she heard it. Someone clearly on the other end. Breathing hard, as if they were running or panicked. 

It was a heavy breath that she recognized, even if in a different context. One that she had relished during long nights of passion.

“… Sara? Christ… Are you there…? I’m so sorry, my omni-tool—”

 

The tears of relief welled up in her eyes.

_Thank God._

 

She was finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're seeing this, thank you very much for the read. I appreciate that you considered clicking and even came this far.
> 
> I understand this is not a terribly common pairing and, while a longtime BW fan, I am late to this fanfic party. Years late, I guess. Has the punch run out? Are there other newbies around?? Does everyone already somehow know each other from tumblr???
> 
> Sorry.  
> If you choose to continue reading (I'm very sorry if it ended up being a waste of your time. I tried.) there may be formatting mishaps. They'll be sorted out over time. At the moment, I'm floundering.


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